Come Home
by GenealogistElyse
Summary: Takes place during the Final Battle, just after Harry learns the truth about Snape and realizes he must die.  Will Hermione ever forgive herself for not telling Harry that she is in love with him?  Has she lost her chance?  H/Hr story.
1. Chapter 1: The Lonely March

**A/N: After watching my new Deathly Hallows Part 2 DVD, I started thinking: What if Harry had told Ron and Hermione that he was going to walk into the forest to die? What if he had stopped? When I first saw the movie at the midnight screening, I was furious that they portrayed Harry as telling Ron and Hermione that he was going to turn himself in and they just totally let him. The only response that he got was Hermione saying, "I'll go with you" and a giant hug from her. It didn't make sense to me... SO... I decided to write a story where it does make sense. Or at least, a little better sense. If you have to change the battle scenes and the forest chapter, then the least they could do was make it believable and I've decided to do just that. With my own spin of course.**

**This story begins just after Harry has looked into the Pensieve and learned the truth about Snape and his fate. He now knows that he must die in order to kill the horcrux that is inside of him and he makes the decision to turn himself in. He leaves Dumbledore's Office and begins walking down the stone corridor to turn himself in. We're also going to pretend that Harry and Ginny were never dating and that Ron and Hermione were not dating as well - just a few typical teenage crushes, but no serious relationships. And... Go!**

His heart seemed to thump louder in his chest now. His feet seemed to move on their own volition; slowly one foot was placed in front of the other. As he walked down the remnants of the stone corridor, his mind was becoming numb at the thought of his own mortality. He will die tonight. He must die tonight.

He continued walking down the corridor, noticing for the first time how short it really was. He would be rounding the corner any moment now and would surely be faced with the battle in full force. He could already hear it: the crumbling stone, the screams, the sounds of exploding spells. But it all sounded so far away now, like he was in a parallel universe.

He rounded the corner and Hermione slammed into him, Ron closely behind her.

"Oi!" she shouted, knocking Harry into the floor as she fell on top of him.

"Harry!" she said, exasperated and out of breath. She lifted herself off of him and began to stand. "We've been looking for you!" The relief was evident in her voice.

Harry stood. He felt tense and rigid. He was too afraid to meet their eyes, terrified that if he did, he would break down like a scared little child. He had to stay strong. He had to stay determined. It has to end like this.

"I've... I've got to do something," he said. "I have to go." Harry turned to walk away, knowing that he had to get away from them before he lost the little courage he had left.

Ron noticed Harry's tone and looked at him quizzically, refusing to allow his mind to think about a theory he had discussed with Hermione weeks ago. 

"Harry?" Hermione quietly asked. Her voice was gentle and small, something you were hear from a small child after a terrible nightmare. Clearly, the theory had appeared in her mind once again.

"The snake. Get the snake. Just like we discussed. The snake has to die." He couldn't face them fully. His voice sounded so different now. So calm, so cold, almost absent of emotion. He needed to be strong for them. He needed to stay on this path. They couldn't know. He'd never have the strength to keep walking away if he heard their screams, their pleas.

"The snake?" Ron asked. For the first time, Harry noticed the cut just above Ron's left eyebrow.

"The snake." Harry finished for him.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked. "Why are you reminding us about the snake?" Fear was creeping into her voice.

"I'll be back". The lie rolled off his tongue easier than he imagined it would.

"You're not... you're not actually..." Ron began, his forehead scrunched in confusion.

"I have to finish something." Harry heard his own voice crack. He had to get away from them. He had to keep walking forward before he allowing fear to take over him. He closed his eyes for a moment and walked towards the forest. Walked away from his best friends. Walked away from his life.

"HARRY!" Hermione's voice pierced him but he did his best to ignore her voice. His lungs couldn't seem to function, unable to bring in oxygen. He willed his legs to keep moving. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other.

"HARRY!" she screamed again. "DON'T GO! PLEASE! There has to be another way!" He was so afraid that she would have figured out the puzzle, but he always knew she would. She knew. Harry Potter was going to die tonight.

He paused and turned around. For the briefest moment, he was afraid that he would burst into tears and beg them to keep him there. He swallowed hard.

His voice was just above a whisper. "I have to."

"There has to be another way, mate. We'll figure something out." Ron seemed to be trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

"This is the only way. I have to go." Harry's voice sounded so different from his own that he almost didn't recognize it.

Hermione's eyes were full of tears now, a few of them spilled over. "No, please. Harry... Harry please!" He turned around, unable to face her. He couldn't look at her, not like this. He had to do this for them, for everyone. It was their only chance at survival. It was their only chance to live full and fulfilling lives. He would do this and so they could move forward, find careers, get married, raise their own families, grow old together. A pang hit his stomach, turning his insides into a twisted mess. He wouldn't grow old with them.

Hermione ran forward, grabbing his arm. "I'll go with you!"

"_No_."

"Don't do this alone, mate." Ron hadn't moved, the expression in his eyes showing fear. He had already lost one brother tonight and he wasn't sure if he could handle losing his best friend too.

"I have to go. _ Alone._" He continued moving forward. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other.

Hermione ran ahead of him and wrapped her arms around him. "Please..." she sobbed into his chest, her knuckles white from gripping his shirt so hard. Her whole body was shaking now and she wasn't sure if she could ever let go.

Harry was shaking too now. His heart was beginning to feel like it might burst. He took a sniff of her hair... a mix of vanilla, fresh parchment, and _blood_. Once again, his mind was brought back to the battle. He had to keep moving. He had to end this before another life was lost.

He pulled her away from his body, his own arms shaking as he gripped Hermione's shoulders. Her shoulders was slumped over in relief and exhaustion as she hopefully searched Harry's face for reassurance.

Instead, Harry turned to Ron and passed him a pleading look. Ron's face began to tighten as a few tears traced down his cheeks. He seemed to silently understand what he had to do. Harry dropped his eyes to the ground, grateful for Ron's understanding. There was no other way.

Ron walked up behind Hermione and wrapped each of his hands around her wrists. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized what Ron was doing. She tried to free herself from his grip, screaming and sobbing as she did so. But Ron held firm and Harry continued walking.

"NOOO!" Hermione screamed, her voice raw and cracking. "HARRY! NO! HARRY!" He could hear her sobbing. "LET GO OF ME! RON, LET GO OF ME! DO _SOMETHING!_ HARRY! _HARRY!_" Ron was sobbing now too but his hold on Hermione's wrists remained tight.

Harry started to run. He had to get away from them. He had to push forward. With every step, Hermione's voice became further drowned out. Although there was a temporary lull in the battle, people were still bustling around. The sounds of tired footsteps against the cold stone floor could be heard. The sound of people heaving bodies over their shoulders, moving the bodies away from the field. He could hear the cries of the injured and dying. One foot in front of the other.

_All I see is you and me._

_The fight for you is all I've ever known._

_So come home._

_~One Republic, "Come Home"_


	2. Chapter 2: She Couldn't Deny The Truth

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm thrilled that you guys are enjoying the story. Keep in mind that I don't have a beta, so there may be a few grammatical errors here and there. Please tell me if it starts to interfere with you enjoyment of the story - I promise, I won't be offended.**

**Chapter 2 takes place after Harry has walked into the forest, used the Resurrection Stone, turned himself into Voldemort, went to Kings Cross, and Hagrid carries his "body" to the field just outside the castle. JKR writes these scenes too perfectly for me to even attempt to re-do AND i it would take too many chapters to cover it all. I want to get to the plot of my own story...so, to be exact, we're beginning just after Voldemort forces the Sorting Hat on Neville's head and lights it on fire.**

Harry lay limp in Hagrid's arms, refusing to open his eyes and begging his fingers not to twitch. The slightest movement would give him away. He had to wait. He had to wait for the exact moment.

He heard Neville's screams and even with the distant between them, he could feel the heat of the fire. He could hear the gasps and screams and cries of the survivors. He wanted to move, but he had to wait for just the right moment.

Then he heard it, a terrible scream unlike anything he had ever heard before. The voice belonged to Hermione, but it was a sound more terrible than she had ever made before.

Something had snapped inside of her. She couldn't stand the image in front of her, the image of Harry lying lifeless in Hagrid's arms, the confident and arrogant stance of Voldemort, the fearful look on Ron's face. Neville locked in place, flames covering his entire head and the screams of pain that erupted from the spot. She couldn't stare at it another second.

She could feel her fingers, nearly numb with the exception of the throb of her pulse at their tips. She could feel the grip on her wand tighten and she could feel her body shaking. And then it happened. Something burst within her.

She was waving her wand faster than she knew she could, screaming every spell that came to mind. She no longer cared whether she lived or died, she just had to end the scene in front of her. She must put the flames out. She must stop Neville's screams. She must penetrate the protection charm barrier between herself and Voldemort. The list scrolled in her minds eye.

If Harry had died and Voldemort had truly won, if Harry had died and nothing was right again, if Harry had died... _Harry had died_... she wasn't going to die quietly.

She felt Ron reach for her wrist but she wiggled free from him, still screaming every spell she knew in a futile attempt to put out the flames on Neville's head. She heard Voldemort's sickening laugh, but this only seemed to fuel her more. She continued screaming spells, every spell that she had ever memorized. Her wand arm seemed to be moving on it's own, detached from the signals her brain was sending. Why weren't any of them working on Neville? Why weren't they extinguishing the fire? For the briefest moments she thought she felt Ron's grip on her wrist to hold her back again, but then she realized it was Ron who was joining her, waving his own wand and screaming spells right beside her. Hopelessness seemed to engulf them, but she was beaming with pride at Ron.

Then her eye caught the glimpse of Harry's lifeless body in Hagrid's arms and she broke again, a sob leaving her lips. She choked, willing herself to shout another spell, but all that escaped her lips was another sob. Voldemort's sickening laugh filled the early morning air and she wondered if she would just collapse and die.

Harry couldn't listen to Hermione anymore, she sounded more broken than he had ever imagined possible, almost delirious and for a moment he thought that she was insane. He had to act. _Now._

He opened his eyes and reached for his wand, praying that Hagrid wouldn't drop him in the surprise, and shot a spell at Neville. The flames disappeared, leaving the Sorting Hat to appear untouched by the heat and damage and Neville to stop screaming. He could feel the eyes on him, but he dared not look at them, focusing his full attention on Voldemort.

"Hello Tom. Surprised to see me?" Harry said. The grip on his wand created white knuckles on his hands. He narrowed his eyes, focusing, waiting for even the slightest movement from his enemy.

"You...You dare to-" His voice was thick with malice and rage, masking the confusion.

"Yes."

"No matter," Voldemort said. His red eyes narrowed on Harry once more. "It matters not to me where you die Potter."

"I won't be the one dying tonight." His voice was strong, determined, focused. He had more confidence now, more understanding, and everything seemed as clear as day. He finally understood.

Voldemort laughed slightly. "You'll be joining your Mudblood mother, Potter."

But before either of them could move, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The sounds of earth cracking under them and centuries old trees snapping filled the air. Before Harry could turn to find the source of the sound, he heard the voice.

"HAGGER!" Grawp's cries for his brother were unmistakable and filled the night air. Hagrid turned, his eyes reaching the giant's tear filled ones. Grawp looked lost, almost infantile, terrified.

Then the ground shook harder than it had before, Voldemort's giants moving quickly towards Grawp. Each step seemed to shake the earth further still and Harry wondered if the ground would crack. It was difficult to stand.

Then came the sound of a thousand hooves pounding against the hard ground, war cries, and thousands of arrows flew through the air. The centaurs had joined them.

People of both sides began running towards the shelter of the castle, screaming and ducking from the falling debris. Harry was temporarily knocked from his feet, but quick to get back up, swishing his head from side to side. He had to find Voldemort.

He began running towards the castle, pushing between friend and foe. He ran through the tall doors of the Great Hall, whipping his head around for his target. There was no sign of him. And no sign of Ron or Hermione.

He moved past the running people, flashes of spells flinging by his side. He had to stay focused, find Voldemort, and finish things. He knew the truth now and only courage and determination was running through his veins.

In the commotion, Hermione had gotten separated from Ron and a fear crept into her bones when she couldn't see his red hair. People were screaming everywhere, pushing, shoving, trying to run away. Confusion was in the air and she wasn't sure whether she should keep running or start fighting. She kept moving, but slid to a stop when a spell missed her by a centimeter.

She turned her eyes upward, searching for the source of the spell, and noticed Bellatrix Lestrange's sickening smile. Hermione, losing any sense of fear and gaining only a resolve to get revenge for the word now etched in her arm, returned the smile and began the duel. Her eyes narrowed and she could feel a surge of adrenaline rush through her body. She had never felt more steady, more prepared, more ready. Every sense was sharper, every hair on her body seemed to stand on end, ready, waiting.

She sent a spell flying towards Bellatrix, but the witch dodged it easily. Hermione smirked, ready and expecting it. She knew this wouldn't be a short fight or an easily one. This would surely push her magical skills to the breaking point. But she was ready.

The two witches began fiercely dueling, moving into the Great Hall. The spells were flying fast and with every spell Bellatrix sent, Hermione was quick to defend and counterattack. The spells were flying and they seemed to be dancing around each other. In Hermione's peripherals, she could see a red head running towards her, ready to help her friend, ready to get her own revenge.

Ginny joined Hermione's side, her own anger and grief fueling her every spell. The two young women continued firing spells, ready to harm and kill, towards the sickening lunatic in front of them. Bellatrix seemed to welcome the company and sought the moment to taunt the two girls.

"Ah, another from the blood traitor family. Come to die just like that pathetic brother of yours?" Bellatrix taunted.

Ginny's face was red, dirt stained, and covered in dried tear tracks - but her eyes held endurance and fearlessness. She wasn't going to die tonight, not by Bellatrix's hand, of that she was sure.

The two young women continued fleeing spells and almost didn't notice that Luna had joined them. They were fast, but Bellatrix always seemed faster, ready to defend herself in every direction and hurling spells right back at them. They all battled their hardest, their most fierce, and yet the three of them were equal to her.

Outside of the castle was Neville Longbottom, Godric Gryffindor's sword held in front of him in both hands. His eyes stared into the eyes of Nagini as he awaited her strike. He was exhausted but focused, determined that the sword that fell out of the Sorting Hat would be the thing to kill the snake; every spell he had tried only moments earlier had little effect. It was no matter, the sword was a suitable weapon.

Nagini launched at Neville with lightening speed, her fangs at the ready. Reacting on pure instinct, Neville threw himself to the left, raising his arms and the sword high above his head. He pushed the sword down with all of his might and he felt the slight resistance when it sliced through Nagini's body, her head and body, two pieces now, falling to the ground with a loud thump.

Exhausted, Neville fell to his knees and dropped the sword on the ground in front of him. The snake was dead.

Harry finally spotted Voldemort at the front of the Great Hall, dueling with Kingsley, McGonagall, and Slughorn. He began racing towards Voldemort. He had to be the one to finish him. He had to be the one to kill him. It was time. With his heart beating rapidly, Harry ran through the crowd, launching a few defensive spells towards those he recognized. He hadn't remembered the hall being so large before this moment.

Then he heard it: An excruciating scream, unlike anything he had ever heard before echoed throughout the hall. He stopped and turned, just in time to see Hermione clutch her stomach and stumble backwards, falling to the floor. Her eyes bulged wide and for the briefest moment, Harry thought that Hermione had been hit with the killing curse. But then he saw her body contort and twist, her eyes wide. Her hands balled up into fists and the terrible sound of a breath caught in a throat was heard throughout the suddenly silent room.

Bellatrix let out a loud cackle, feeling triumphant and proud of herself.

"Hermione..." he said it just above a whisper. His blood ran cold.

He ran forward, nearly forgetting the wand in his hands; He wanted to kill Bellatrix with his bare hands. He had never felt such fury flooding through his body. Voldemort would have to wait. He needed to kill her first.

Hermione shook and quivered in pain on the ground. Her insides were on fire, she was sure of it. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't scream. She couldn't move. Her body continued to bend and jerk uncontrollably, thrashing in all directions. Hot tears were streaking down her face and she could swear that she could taste blood. She could feel every inch of her skin scorching in pain, every nerve in her body begging for it to stop. The pain was agonizing and she wasn't sure how much longer she could endure it before her heart would give out.

She closed her eyes as memories of her life flashed in front of her mind. They were all so young, so undeserving of this burden, and this was how her fate would end. She ignored the spams of her limbs and focused her energy on her thoughts. Flashes of the large red Hogwarts Express train and moments of young, careless laughter in the Gryffindor common room filled her mind. The smells of fresh parchment and the satisfying feeling of using a new bottle of ink. Flashes of homemade sweaters that scratched at your skin and sitting by the fire and carefree walks around Hogsmead. The heartbreak she felt after Ron disappeared. The feelings of hopelessness they experienced while on the run. Piercing green eyes and the feel of his calloused hands against her own when they apparated. The warmth she felt in his presence as she gripped his arm and cried on his shoulder. The way he sighed into her hair when they embraced. It all went back to Harry. It was always Harry.

The realization hit her without warning: Hermione was in love with Harry Potter.

She had never allowed the truth to flood the front of her mind before this very moment, so terrified that if she did, she would never see him again. It was all clear now. She could no longer deny the fundamental truth she had ignored, hidden away, refused to face for fear of distraction. There had been no time for distractions these last few months. Distractions were dangerous.

As the pain engulfed her and darkness began to close in around her, she couldn't deny the truth. She was close to slipping to unconsciousness and desperately tried to scream out to him. The need for Harry to understand the depth of her feelings for him was life-threatening and all consuming. She willed her lips to move and let the words escape her, but she could only hear her own screams.

The floor was cold against her skin. She could feel the wet trails of tears on her face. She could feel the fire still raging in her veins and despite her best efforts, she knew she was slipping into unconsciousness. She pryed her eyes open and willed herself to find Harry. If she could only look at him one last time... perhaps then he would know.

Her eyes met Ron's blue eyes above her. Was he shaking? She couldn't be sure. His mouth was moving but she couldn't hear him, the silence filling her mind in a pause..

Her eyelids dropped shut again for a moment and as she opened them again, she searched for Harry. She finally spotted him, mere feet from where she was. His wand was drawn, aimed at Bellatrix, and all she wanted to do was scream out for him. Feel his touch once more.

But before Harry could make another move or release another spell, Mrs. Weasley ran forward and put an arm across Harry's chest.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. Her wand began slashing through the air, aiming curses towards Bellatrix with a fury Harry had never seen from her before.

"No!" she shouted forcefully towards Harry as he also began shooting spells. "Get back! She belongs to me. She is mine to finish!"

Harry stopped, more in awe of Molly Weasley than he had every felt before, and absolutely terrified for Hermione.

He turned his eyes away from Molly Weasley for only half a second, rushing to Hermione's side. She continued to writhe in pain and for a split second her eyes met Harry's. She willed him to understand, to somehow hear her telepathically. He had to know. He had to know that she was in love with him. Her heart would not be able to take the pain much longer, she was sure of it, and soon, her deep confession towards Harry would be past tense: she loved him.

She could see Harry and Ron yelling spells at her, desperate to stop the pain but unable to. She closed her eyes again, begging herself to breathe but her lungs would not respond. Her limbs were begin to tingle now and she could feel herself slipping into the calm darkness. She opened her eyes again, determined to stare at the people who meant the most to her as she drifted. She would not show fear. She would die with her dignity.

Then she saw Neville's face over her own. He pried her jaws open and began shoving what felt like a large stem into her mouth. He pushed her mouth shut and squeezed her cheeks. For a moment she wondered why Neville was doing this until she felt the cooling sensation run through her veins. Her insides began to cool and her fingers stopped tingling. She took a gulp of breath and everything began to return to focus. The noise of the dueling returned and she turned around, desperate to find Harry, desperate not to lose the chance to tell him.

"What are the rest of your children going to do when Mummy's gone the way of little Freddie?" Bellatrix taunted.

"YOU-WILL-NEVER-TOUCH-OUR-CHILDREN-AGAIN!" Mrs. Weasley looked stronger than she had ever appeared before, drunk with grief and the taste of revenge.

And then it happened: the spell hit Bellatrix in the center of the chest and for the smallest increment of time, her eyes bulged in a knowing look before she collapsed onto the ground.

Voldemort screamed in agony, sending a force throughout the room that knocked everyone off their feet. Kingsley, McGonagall, and Slughorn flew through the air, crashing down into walls and the crowd. Silence fell upon the room.

Harry rose to his feet, much like a Phoenix from the ashes, wand in hand and ready for the moment he had waited 17 years for. 


	3. Chapter 3: Appreciating The Warmth

**A/N: Let me begin by saying thank you again for the reviews. This chapter takes place just after Harry has defeated Voldemort. Just like in the books, Harry explains why the wand is his, Snape's loyalities, and Dumbledore's plan as he is dueling Voldemort. After he kills Voldemort, Harry passes out.**

"Harry," Hermione said gently. "Harry, wake up. Harry." She was running one hand through his hair and shaking his arm with her other. "Harry, please? Harry, please wake up."

He stirred slightly, feeling the protest from his muscles, and heard a relieved sigh.

"There you go, Harry. Just open your eyes," she cooed.

He opened his eyes into small slits for a moment, lingering, momentarily wondering if he had gone back to Kings Cross. He opened them a bit further and saw a blurry Hermione's face fill with relief. Her eyes instantly filled with tears and he watched as a few fell down her cheeks.

"...What?" he said quietly. "What.. what happened?"

Cheers erupted from all around him.

Hearing his words she leaned down and hugged Harry, trying to stifle the tears but seeing him here - alive - and knowing that everything was over made finally crack. She began hugging him, allowing her tears to speak for every fear, every loss, every ounce of pride she had for him. And he was alive.

As if instinct, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Then he saw the face of Ron, offering his hand to help Harry up. He took it and Ron helped pull him to a sitting position, Hermione still clinging to his shirt.

"You're alright?" she asked, taking a strong breathe in to steady herself. She pulled away from him and placed a hand on his face, looking him up and down.

"Yeah... think so," he replied. "Can I have my glasses?"

"Oh, right. Right. Glasses. Anyone have his glasses?" she asked, sounded exasperated, looking around. Neville approached slowly. He handed her the glasses, gave a small smile, and then backed away. She returned the smile and then turned her attention to Harry.

She handed him the glasses and gave a weak smile. He nodded and looked around, noticing that a small crowd had silently gathered around him. He blushed.

It was Ginny who broke the silence as a loud sob escaped her lips and she turned into George's chest. He hugged her in return, crying himself.

People started to turn away from him, begin cleaning up, aiding the injured, or mourning the death. Ron looked at Harry and Hermione, tears threatening to spill over.

"Go ahead, Ron," she whispered. He nodded and stood, turning to walk towards his family.

She looked back down at Harry. "Do you think you could stand?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah." She slowly began to stand, wincing at the pain as she did. Harry followed suit and together, they began walking away and out of the Great Hall.

Without conscious thought, Harry and Hermione walked to the Gryffindor common room. They silently entered and Hermione took a seat on the couch in front of the fire. Wrapping her arms around herself, she took a seat on the couch in front of the fire. Harry silently sat next to her and stared at the fire.

"Harry..." her voice was shaking and just above a whisper. "When... When I was cursed..."

Harry looked at her but she continued staring at the fire.

"I realized something. I don't know why I didn't see it before. I think I was just too scared to see it." She sniffed, trying to keep herself level. Harry stared at her curiously, but he knew better than to rush her. "All I could think about was that I was going to die-"

"Hermione." he said quietly, taking her hand in his. She stared at it for a moment before going on.

"I thought I was going to die and never have the chance to tell you-"

The squeak of the painting moving to the side interrupted her thought. She heard the footsteps approach and begged them to continue up the stairs to the dormitories. She looked up a moment later to see Ron standing in front of them.

"Hermione, Mum says you should go to Madame Pomfrey to set examined before you go to sleep." Ron spoke without emotion.

"Ron, I'm fine. I just want to sit here for a bit and then I'll go to sleep." He didn't move.

"Really, Ron. I'm fine. Your Mum shouldn't be worrying about me anyway-"

"It'll make her feel better."

Hermione nodded. She didn't want to argue with him. The loss of Fred had been felt by everyone and she wasn't going to do anything to further discomfort Mrs. Weasley.

She stood again, wincing at the pain.

"Will you go with me?" she asked Harry. "I don't want to make the walk alone." He stood without saying a word, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the common room.

They continued walking and Hermione contemplated waiting until morning to talk to Harry. She was truly exhausted and she knew he must be too - maybe tonight wasn't the perfect night to go admitting long hidden love.

"What did you not have the chance to tell me?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Hmm?" pulled away from her thoughts.

"You said earlier that you thought you didn't have the chance to tell me something."

"Oh, right. Well..." she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. Harry passed her a nervous glance.

Noticing the door knob to a classroom, she stopped and approached it. Turning the knob, she walking inside. Harry only stared at her for a moment, confusion on his face, and then he followed her inside. She took a seat in the back, facing the desk in front of her. Harry took the seat next to her. She took a few deep breathes, allowing the air to fill her lungs as her chest rose and fell.

"When I was under that curse," she began, her voice steadier now. "I realized that I'm in love with someone." She allowed her eyes to peak a view of his facial expression. He still seemed confused. She nodded to herself. "Harry...I'm... I'm in love with you." She focused even further on the front of the classroom, afraid of looking at him.

The air stayed silent and heavy for what felt like an eternity, as if they were frozen in time.

Harry reached over and took Hermione's hand in his own. He gripped it for a moment, allowing his thumb to rub over the top of her hand. She kept her gaze ahead, unable to read his gesture.

He reached his hand up and cupped her cheek. She leaned into his warm touch and closed her eyes, trying to chase away the thoughts of Harry's rejection. He gently turned her cheek and stared at her features, noticing the fresh cut on her lip. He graced his thumb over it, tracing it, remembering Hermione under a curse. Then he leant down and let his lips meet hers, gentle at first, unsure of the new territory they had entered. Her lips were warm, enticing him to deepen the kiss slightly. As soon as it had began, it had ended.

Harry reached down to intertwine his fingers with Hermione's, appreciating her warmth for the first time. He had held her hands so many times before and yet this time felt so different. He stood and pulled her up with him. Her eyes were searching him, unsure and confused. He offered a small smile and then walked out of the room towards the Hospital Wing.


	4. Chapter 4: Waking to the Aftermath

**A/N: Happy New Year! I hope everyone is doing well. Here is yet another chapter and don't worry - it is longer than the last one. Thanks to all of the favorites, story alerts, and comments - they really mean the world to me and help me push forward in developing the story. **

Harry took in a deep breath of air, letting it fill his lungs completely, and opened his eyes. It took a moment for him to recognize the Hospital Wing and realize that he was sleeping in possibly the most comfortable bed he could have ever imagined. Or perhaps he was just recovering from being exhausted in every form possible: physically, emotionally, mentally. He contemplated just closing his eyes again and pulling the blankets tighter around himself to enjoy the peaceful relaxation of sleep once again, but the voices he could hear on the other side of the curtain sparked his curiosity.

He sat up in bed, making the bed springs squeak as he shifted his weight. He looked down at the small side table to find his glasses and he placed him on his head.

"Harry?" Hermione was whispering from the other side of the curtain.

"I'm up," he replied. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, realizing how jelly-like his legs felt as they tried to support his weight. He ignored the sensation, keeping his hand behind him so he could catch himself if he fell. Feeling confident, he pulled open the curtain and saw Hermione sitting up in bed with a book in her lap.

"About time you're up," she said with a smile.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

"You've only been asleep for four days. Madame Pomfrey said you'd sleep a few days, saying that your magic was drained." The reminder of the battle made her lower her eyes again.

He took a seat on her bed beside her. "Where is everyone?" he asked, noticing that the room was mostly empty.

"Neville left yesterday to make sure his gran got home alright, but he is supposed to return today to help with the clean-up. Luna was here a few moments ago but left with Ron when he went to help his mum and dad with the..." she stopped, remembering the funeral that was being planned.

Harry nodded, not wanting her to finish the sentence. Although he felt more rested than he had ever remembered feeling, he knew that he would soon be faced with the ugly aftermath of the war.

"What are you reading?" he asked, pointing to the book in her lap.

"Romeo and Juliet," she replied. "I found an entire Shakespeare collection in Professor Burbage's office..." she looked down, feeling almost guilty for reading the book. "McGonagall told me I should keep it, said I would appreciate it."

A silence fell over them as they sat, neither looking at the other.

_Does he even remember kissing me?_ she wondered. _Does he remember what I said?_

"How are you feeling?" she asked, trying to ignore the thoughts in her head. She had been reliving the kiss and over analyzing his reaction for days - it was truly exhausting.

"Alright, I suppose. A bit beat up, but I'll be fine. You?"

"Tired mostly. Might be a while before I can join the clean up efforts,"

He stared at her quizzically. "Why?" he asked. Concern flooded his features and he reached for her hand without realizing it. "Is something wrong? Are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine," she started, staring down at their joined hands. "The curse just did a bit more damage than initially thought." she replied coolly. "Only a few more days and I'll be back up and helping to clean things up."

"Hermione..." he looked into her eyes and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. His eyes traveled her. "I don't see any marks or scars..."

"The damage isn't on the outside," she started. "It's beneath my skin. When the curse went through me, it felt like my insides were on fire. I couldn't breathe and every inch of my body was burning. It caused some damage to my blood veins, particularly in my hands, and a bit of organ damage." Noticing the look of fear on his face, she tried to change the mood of the conversation. "Don't worry, I'm taking loads of potions. This will all be fixed soon - it just requires some time."

"Wha-" he looked at her, worry sketched on his face. He couldn't seem to organize his thoughts enough to speak them. "How... How much damage did it really do?" Hermione tried to speak but he interrupted her again. "Honestly."

She looked down at her fingers as if suddenly finding interest in them. "It isn't as bad as it could have been... probably because I had my thoughts focused on," she paused, unsure if she she approach the topic again, "focused on someone, which helped contain the curse to a minimum."

He nodded, avoiding her eyes and focusing down on her hands again. He lifted her hand in his own as if to examine it. He looked down at her fingers, noticing how pale and soft her skin was, tracing the lines of her knuckles and ending at her finger nails.

"Oh- Sorry! Didn't mean...didn't mean to just walk in like that. I should have knocked. Sorry." Ginny backed out of the room quickly, closing her eyes shut as she did.

Harry and Hermione stared at the door that had just closed behind Ginny. _Had she really interrupted something?_ Hermione thought.

Harry released her hand and stood. "I should go check on the Weasleys. See if I can help with anything,"

Hermione nodded, understanding his need to help those who had sacrificed so much for, but she couldn't shake the disappointment that he hadn't spoke of her confession a few nights earlier. Or the kiss they shared. It had been only a small kiss, light and gentle, and yet it was perfect. _Did he even remember it? Or was he purposely avoiding it? _

Harry walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

The following weeks were draining as Harry and Hermione attended funeral after funeral. Each funeral was as painful as the next, each one serving as a reminder of the true cost of the war. When someone would thank Harry for his bravery and courage to finish the war, he always became tense, feeling unworthy of the praise. Each time, Hermione would place a hand on Harry's back, silently signally to him that they should leave. He would quietly reach down so she could take his hand in her own and they would walk away, finding a secluded space far enough away so the pop from the apparation wouldn't disturb the attendees.

Not wanting to stay at The Burrow and not having anywhere else to go, Hermione and Harry would return to Hogwarts and walk through the castle to the Gryffindor common room. The castle was nearly deserted at night, with the exception of a few professors, leaving it peaceful and quiet.

Hermione silently walked up to the boys dormitories like she did every evening. Not wanting to sleep alone, she has been sleeping in Harry's old room, picking the bottom bunk of the four poster bed next to his. She didn't bother changing out of her black funeral dress, only choosing to kick her high heels off. After both heels were cast aside, she pulled the blankets back and laid into bed, trying to resist the urge to curl in a ball and cry.

Harry entered the room a moment later and took his jacket off, throwing it on a chair beside him. He noticed Hermione in bed and briefly wondered whether she was alright. Noticing her small form shaking slightly, he frowned and sat on the edge of her bed. He tried to rack his brain for word to say, something that would provide comfort and peace.

Something that would lessen the pain of funeral after funeral, trying to say goodbye to the lives that were lost all too soon. Something that would stop them from thinking what would have been if everyone had survived, stop them from thinking about what could have been done differently to present the deaths. He could think of nothing. There was nothing that could be said to fix things. He let out a defeated sigh.

Taking off his own shoes, Harry pulled back the blankets and got into bed next to Hermione. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Harry pulled her closer to him and closed his eyes. He could feel her body shake as she silently sobbed. She reached for his hand and intertwined her fingers with his, letting her tears spill down her cheeks and onto her pillow. He closed his eyes and snuggled into her hair, trying to allow her scent to calm him. There was nothing he could do to fix their pain, but he was grateful to be in her presence and have her in his arms. Trying to clear his mind, he softly kissed Hermione's bare shoulder and pulled her closer, willing his exhaustion to push him to sleep.

**A/N: What do you think? In the next chapter, Hermione won't be able to take not knowing Harry's feelings and will confront him. But what will Harry say? You'll just have to wait and see.**


	5. Chapter 5: We Move Forward

**A/N: Let me say a big thank you to all of the people who are leaving reviews, story alerts, and favorites. Let me also give a big extra thank you to Jobless and Penniless for giving me honest, constructive, and helpful reviews. I am definitely going to be rewriting Chapter 3 because it is really just a horrible chapter - the plot won't be changing but I'll definitely add some more depth to the scene and characters. So keep your eyes open for that. Here is to another chapter!**

**Also... if anyone is curious as to what I've been listening to to get inspired or guide me through the writing, check out nearly any The Fray songs - but especially "Say When", "When The Story Ends", and "She is". I've also been watching this amazing HP video that someone made - while it isn't my kind of music, I think it is so well done and conveys so much emotion. So check it out if you want:**

**.com/watch?v=DFBzZfxkWUg&list=LLZovLbUmvyRCMlyJ32fpdvg&index=1&feature=plpp_video**

Hermione sat at the long wooden table in the great hall, playing with the potatoes on her plate. Her eyes were sore and swollen, matching the feeling her whole body seemed to have. She felt sluggish and tired, the result of falling asleep while sobbing every night. She sighed and dropped her fork, rest her chin on her hand. She wasn't really hungry anyway.

She watched as Neville turned the page of his Daily Prophet. She opened her mouth to ask what he was reading, but closed it quickly, realizing it was better not to ask. Since the final battle, reporters had hammered them with questions, begging for interviews, constantly snapping photographs. Every person they seemed to come across had tried to shake their hands, half crying and celebrating, honoring the man who had saved their world. McGonagall had done her best to prevent the reporters from entering the grounds of Hogwarts, but it did nothing when it came to the post: hundreds of owls seemed to enter the castle grounds each day to deliver requests for interviews, fan mail, letters of well-wishes. It never seemed to stop.

"Hermione?" Neville asked. "Hermione?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and stared up at Neville. "Hmm?" she asked. She could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

"Are you alright?" Neville asked, staring at her with concern. "You look...you look..."

"Dreadful," said Luna, finishing Neville's thoughts. He turned a bright pink at Luna's word.

"I was going to say tired," Neville finished quietly, averting his attention back to his paper.

Hermione stared at Luna, unsure of what to say. She knew she looked horrible, she felt horrible. The skin around her eyes was the puffiest, throbbing with pain from the swelling.

Hermione looked up when Ginny took the seat across from her at the table. Ginny looked down at Hermione's plate of mostly untouched food. "You should eat," she said simply. "Mum will have a fit if she sees that plate."

Since Fred's funeral, Mrs. Weasley had taken up the hobby of caring for anyone within reach. She spent hours in the kitchen cooking up dish after dish, always seemingly determined to make more food that the lot of them could eat. She was constantly checking on everyone, ensuring that they were well fed and taken care of. Hermione guessed that it helped her cope with the loss of her son.

"In fact, Mum will have a fit if she sees you looking like this. Hermione... you haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

She sighed, not really wanting to be a part of this conversation. "No, not really."

"You know you're always welcome at the Burrow and it has to be more comfortable than being in the empty dormitories at night."

"It isn't that simple, Gin."

"Then explain it to me." Ginny wasn't going to let this go. "You don't have to carry whatever burden you have on your own. Isn't that what you always used to say to Harry? Don't you think it is time to start listening to your own advice? We're all worried about you."

"I..." she sighed. She really didn't want to explain her thoughts to Ginny at the moment, but she couldn't see a way out of it. She noticed Neville shift his weight uncomfortably and she wondered if he was listening. "I just don't know to do," Hermione gave Ginny a small smile, hoping that her answer to suffice, and looked down at her food.

"The great Hermione Granger doesn't know what to do? Well, ain't that a first?" Ron was smiling, a plate full of food in his hands, as he sat down next to Hermione.

"Funny," Hermione said, trying to sound annoyed, but she couldn't help but smile at the comment. Ginny cast Hermione a knowing look, but thankfully dropped the topic. Hermione knew they would pick it up again later, once they were alone.

Ron wasted no time in devouring his food. He shoved a large bit of egg and toast into his mouth before reaching for his knife and fork to begin cutting his ham. Hermione stared at him, a mix of disgust and nostalgia on her face.

"What?" Ron asked, his mouth still full of food. Hermione grimaced, sharing a disgusted look at Ginny. Ginny stood from the table and walked away.

"You should really swallow your food before you speak, Ronald." He rolled his eyes at her.

"I haven't had a decent meal in nearly a year. I plan on never missing another one of my Mum's delicious meals again."

Hermione stared back down at her food, lifting her fork in her hand to play with the food on her plate. She knew she should eat, but she just didn't have the energy.

"So what is it you were talking to Ginny about?" Ron asked. Hermione didn't move. "Hermione, you can tell me. I know I haven't exactly be around much lately but I'm still here. You can tell me."

"I just..." she struggled to find the words to express how she felt. "I don't know what exactly I'm supposed to do now."

"With what?" Ron put his fork down and turned to face her.

"I... I guess I just didn't expect to get _here_," she said. She paused, feeling too ashamed of her confession to look Ron in the eyes.

"Here?" he asked confused. "What do you mean _here_?"

"When we decided to go with Harry, I didn't necessarily believe we'd get here. I wanted to believe it, but we rarely knew what we were doing and even if we did, we're only seventeen and we're expected to go up against some of the darkest wizards in history. I had always wanted to believe that we'd make it, that things would somehow work out, that we weren't a lost cause. I just wanted to protect Harry and you and everyone else at all costs. Harry was our only hope and I guess I just, wasn't expecting to survive all of this." Hermione slumped her shoulders, feeling better that she had finally voiced the thoughts that had been plaguing her.

Ron was silent as he stared at her, shock on his face. He finally nodded in understanding.

"I don't know what to do now. I'm happy that we made it through this, that we survived. I'm happy that Harry came back. But, I don't know what to do now."

"We move forward," Ron responded. "We made it through and now it is our time to move forward. Rebuild. Start over."

"I have to find my parents." she said flatly.

"You'll find them".

"I don't know if I'll be able to reverse the spell."

"You're the brightest witch of our age, Hermione. If anyone can find a way, it is you."

Hermione smiled at Ron for his confidence in her. She just hoped he was right.

After a few more minutes of pretending to eat, Hermione left the Great Hall. She started to wander the castle, not wanting to return to the dormitories but not knowing of anywhere else to go. The castle felt so familiar and yet, it no longer felt like home. She hadn't finished her seventh year but she didn't belong here anymore. The war was over and it was time for her to move on from Hogwarts, start making the change she so desperately wanted to see in the wizarding world. She had to find her parents first.

Hermione continued walking through the castle corridors, noticing how many once solid walls were reduced to rocks and dust. Old memories seemed to stir themselves as she walked. She sighed. This castle was full of them.

Turning a corner, Hermione stopped, noticing Harry staring at the doorway. Puzzled, she took a slow step forward, worried of interrupting his thoughts.

"Harry?" she said hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

Harry didn't move. Hermione took another cautious step forward, debating whether to leave him alone or to continue moving. She looked at him reluctantly as worry created small lines on her forehead. "Harry..." she spoke softly.

"Do you ever feel surprised that things fell into place so perfectly?" Harry continued staring at the door, his voice sounding so different from his own.

Hermione's eyes searched him, trying to decode his words. She noticed the firmness in his stance, the tension in his broad shoulders. Her gaze landed on the scar on his jawline and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. He was no longer the boy she knew. Harry had grown into a man and she wondered if the transformation had happened over a long period of time or if it had happened overnight.

"I'm thankful that they did," she said softly. He didn't move or make to respond. She took a few more steps towards him, shortening the space between them.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do next," he said, his voice still steady. "Is that wrong?"

"No," she said softly. She sighed and looked down at her feet, unsure of what to say. She looked back up at him slowly and for the first time noticed what door he was standing in front of. She could feel the chill run down her spine as her eyes began to water. "Why..." she sniffed. "Why... you're...this door..." Hermione could feel her heart beating against her chest. _Why was he staring at this door?_

"I can't tell you that I feel the same, Hermione." His eyes didn't move from the wooden door.

She tried her best to suppress the sob that was threatening her lips. The tears were beginning to sting her eyes and she knew she had to leave. She had to walk away before either of them said something they would regret. Maybe with time they could move away from this and act as if it had never happened. She could convince herself that her feelings for Harry was only a phase. She had to move..._why aren't my feet moving?_

"I don't feel anything at all." For the first time, Harry looked at Hermione and she noticed the struggle in his eyes. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do next. I don't know who I am after... after Voldemort. I just - I feel so lost."

"Harry, I know who you are. It is the reason why I..."

"I can't give you what you deserve," he interrupted her. His eyes were pleading.

"You really underestimate yourself," she interrupted, a tinge of frustration in her voice.

"You deserve someone who can _want_ you. I can't do that right now and I don't know how long it'll take before I figure this all out."

"We've all been closed off for a long time, Harry. Time doesn't bother me."

A silence fell between them.

"What did you think of when you walked into the forest?" Her voice was low and unsteady.

He looked at her, taken aback by the question.

"I wasn't afraid to die, Harry. I had accepted long ago that it could happen. But I was so sad that I wouldn't grow old with _you_. I just kept thinking of everything we weren't going to do together and I wanted so badly to experience life with you and I thought of all the days I wouldn't spend with you. Seeing that - _feeling_ that, Harry, I've never been more terrified, but I knew that my feelings were real." Tears streamed down Hermione's face as she stared at him.

He stared at her in shock at her revelation. He walked closer to her and reached a hand to her cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. He didn't like to see her tears - he had never known how to handle them. She stared into his chest, too terrified of what she would see in his green eyes.

"When I closed my eyes in the forest, I thought of you. Screaming at me, begging me. It was like I could hear your voice echoing in my head and I just wanted to stop the pain. I wanted to see you one more time." His voice was just above a whisper and yet, it had still cracked.

Hermione reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to kiss him. Her heart was beating faster than she knew possible and her eyes were filled with tears that spilled onto her cheeks. His words had won her heart over and she could feel the honesty of her feelings in the pit of her stomach.

Feeling his lips on her own had sent a rush of happiness through her body. His arm instinctively wrapped around her waist and he pulled her tighter to him. As the kiss deepened, she let her fingers grab his hair. She had to get closer to him, somehow convey every feeling she felt for him. Words wouldn't suffice and could never convince him.

He could taste the salt from her tears but it only seemed to strengthen the feelings he had been fighting for her. The thoughts of his insecurities seemed to melt away from his mind. Her taste was intoxicating and comforting, the warmth from her lips reassuring him that he could indeed feel. His love for her was in an abundance and he wondered if his heart would burst. She was his solid foundation, the push that kept him walking, the reminder that his life was more than saving the world.

Hermione pulled away slightly, resting a hand on the side of his neck as the only other gripped the side of his shirt. She kept her eyes closed, a smile forming on her lips as she tried to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding against her rib cage. It was better than she had dreamed.

"Hermione Granger... the foundation to always remind me of what I'm too thick to see," he said playfully. She laughed.

"Well... you were never the brightest wizard. Most courageous, sure. But definitely not the brightest," He smiled at her, a sly look in his eyes.

"Don't you dare..." Hermione said with a smile, holding up her finger and stepping away from him.

Harry smiled deviously and then ran at Hermione, tickling her ribs. Hermione's giggles filled the air as she tried to push him away, backing into the wall. He was relentless and laughed at her pleas to stop.

Once Hermione was on the ground against the wall, her face a bright shade of red and out of breath, Harry stopped. He watched as she gasped for air, sending him a look of playful revenge.

"This...is not... over!" she said between gasps. He smiled as he sat on the floor next to her.

"I love you, Hermione." He said it simply, letting the truth of his words speak for themselves. She smiled in return.

"I love you too, Harry."


	6. Chapter 6: Coming Home

The sun shone brightly through Hermione's bedroom window, leaving a golden glow over the room. Hermione rolled over in her bed, trying to fight the morning's wake up call for a few more minutes of sleep. But it was no use - her mind was certainly awake and it was time to begin her day.

Hermione climbed out of her four poster bed and walked to the bathroom. Her eyes still half closed with sleep, she splashed the cold water on her tired skin, the rush instantly waking her up. As she wiped her face dry, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.

She looked different now - older and stronger. Her physical scars were nearly all healed now and the paleness that had consumed her complexion while they were on the run had been replaced with the peachy undertones of a summer's worth of Mrs. Weasley's meals. Her life was beginning to find balance again.

And it helped that Harry's place in her life had changed; Changed to something better than she could have imagined. Realizing her love for Harry had opened up her heart in ways she had never realized were possible. She was more comfortable and open with him than she had ever been before.

Over the last few weeks, Harry and Hermione had fallen into a pleasant rhythm. They saw each other each morning during the daily rebuilding meeting. As repair assignments were being handed out, they each snuck a tiny symbolic gesture of their love to the other - something so small that no one else noticed the significance.

After the assignments for the day were handed out and the meeting was finished, Harry and Hermione would move through the crowd towards one another and grasp hands, then head towards their assignments. If their assignments were on different ends of the castle, Harry would steal a small kiss on the cheek before they parted ways.

Hermione walked out of the bathroom and got dressed for the day. The morning meeting would be starting soon and she hated being late. The end of the summer was approaching quickly and soon, the castle would be finished with repairs and yet another generation of students would enter through the large heavy doors.

She started walking through the corridors to the Great Hall, allowing her mind to wander through the vast storage of memories this castle held. Memories of when she first walked through the castle doors - wide-eyed, innocent, a heart full of curiosity and wonder. Memories of being teased for her bossy, know-it-all personality. Memories of sitting with Ron and Harry in corners of the castle, arguing over homework or contemplating Malfoy's next evil move. Memories of the ball and the increasing awareness of the opposite sex around her. Memories of the ministry taking over Hogwarts and Dumbledore's death. Memories of saying goodbye to the place that truly made her into a witch and built the foundation of her magical knowledge - and ultimately her survival.

Memories of returning to the school, lost and unsure of what they were looking for, feeling hopeless to succeed but desperate to prevail. Memories of the battle starting - of spells being shot at every turn and giant stone bricks of the castle walls being smashed into crumbs. Memories of Harry walking away from her. Memories of him returning. Memories of being tortured. Memories of his lips pressed against her own, telling her he understood how she felt.

"Hermione." His voice broke her out of her thoughts. She smiled as soon as she saw him.

"Good morning," she replied, pleasantly. She stared at his untidy hair - curled into every which direction. "Your hair really is hopeless," she said with a laugh as she ran her hand through it in a fruitless attempt to smooth it. He smiled at her.

"Only another week before we're done. You excited to see the final product?" Harry asked.

"It really has come along nicely, hasn't it?" she said as she began walking towards the meeting.

"Definitely much better than I expected. Honestly, I didn't think this place was repairable." His voice went lower.

She smiled weakly. "I didn't either. Amazing that a whole new generation of children are going to walk through those doors," her voice trailed off.

"Yeah, unbelievable."

A moment of quiet fell over them, with only the sounds of their echoing footsteps filling their ears.

"Do you think our kids will ever go here?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Harry said thoughtfully. "I just hope they don't get in as much trouble as we did," he said with a slight chuckle. Hermione squeezed his hand as she smiled.

They were quickly approaching the doors to the Great Hall. A contented quiet had once again fallen over the couple as they finished their last few steps.

"Besides," Harry began, "I want our kids to know what it feels like to come home."

Together, Harry and Hermione smiled. Indeed, this place would always feel like home.


End file.
